


All Thanks and Praise to Robert M. Green

by mandykaysfic



Series: August Holidays [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis is experiencing a heat wave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Thanks and Praise to Robert M. Green

**Author's Note:**

> August 2nd is National Ice Cream Soda Day and was written on that date to celebrate. 
> 
> Also written for the Mundane Bingo prompt 'drinking a cold beverage on a hot day'.
> 
> Robert M. Green is credited with the invention of the ice-cream soda, back in 1874.

A wave of activity passed through Atlantis like gossip through the grapevine. Across the city, people stopped complaining about the heat, downed equipment and headed to the Mess. Even the Gateroom was empty of all but the compulsory minimum of personnel, an unusual occurrence whenever the Daedalus arrived.

Sheppard, McKay, Lorne and Zelenka, closeted for several hours in one of the small meeting rooms, had given up trying to make any decisions after discussion of the agenda items had degenerated into arguments, and by unspoken consensus they headed to the Mess. They weren't expecting the room to be so crowded, or the atmosphere so cheerful. Six days of unrelenting heat had upset everyone's nerves. Even Dr Dunnett, reputed to be a Zen Master of the nth degree due to the fact nothing ever seemed to ruffle him, had actually snapped at the kitchen staff on two separate occasions. Now, people were smiling and the queue at the servery was surprisingly orderly. The four exchanged bemused looks and joined the end of the line.

The doors and windows stood open in the forlorn hope that the smallest breath of air would ease some of oppressive heat. On the balcony, Dr Kusanagi could be seen sitting beneath a large paper sunshade she shared with Simpson. The two held tall glasses of something pink they sipped through long straws. At a nearby table, the occupants erupted into cheers. A marine seated with his back to the queue placed his almost empty glass upside down on his head. Sheppard cringed inwardly as the remnants of the young man's drink slid down his hair. A pair of engineers almost caused an accident when they illustrated some point with hand gestures, forgetting they too, held glasses of whatever the Mess was serving.

“The Daedalus brought back stuff for ice-cream sodas.” Rogerson turned around to answer Zelenka's query as to where the unfamiliar glasses everyone held had come from.

Rodney's face lit up. “Ice-cream sodas. I haven't had an ice-cream soda in -.”

“None of us have had an ice-cream soda in months,” interrupted Lorne. “Mmm, root beer soda.”

“Myself, I prefer it made with ginger ale,” said Radek.

“Cherry coffee is the best,” insisted Rodney. “You drizzle the coffee flavor down one side of the glass, cherry down the other, pour the soda just so and top with a round scoop of vanilla ice-cream. Naturally, the fit between the rim of the glass and the diameter of the ice-cream ball must be perfect. It took me four months to find somewhere within twenty miles of the Mountain that could make a proper ice-cream soda. It's absolutely vital the ice-cream is perfectly positioned, otherwise it doesn't foam properly.” He licked his lips.

“Sorry, Dr McKay.” Rogerson looked as though he were about to confess to personally causing the heatwave. “They only brought back vanilla, strawberry and chocolate flavors.”

Rodney frowned, but he cheered up quickly enough. “Oh, well, chocolate's almost as good, as long as there's whipped cream and a cherry on top. What about you, Sheppard? What flavor are you pining for?”

“Vanilla suits me fine.”

They shuffled forward a few steps, then a few more. Every so often, someone noisily slurped up the dregs from their glass. Nobody complained about the lack of manners; people simply smiled and sucked loudly on their own straws in response.

“Who do we have to thank for this?” wondered Lorne. “I can't imagine Landry authorizing anything quite so frivolous.”

“He didn't.” Caldwell joined them, chocolate soda in hand. “Dr Weir thought you needed a little something nice from home. Her arguments were _very_ persuasive. I took it upon myself to fulfill her request. The credit for it being ice-cream sodas goes to Daniel Jackson. We didn't know about your heat wave.” He stopped explaining and simply listened when Rodney reached the head of the queue and immediately took it upon himself to provide Sgt McKenna with exacting instructions on how to make the ideal ice-cream soda. Caldwell shook his head. He caught Sheppard's eye, who offered a shrug in response. 

When the cold soda slid down his throat, Rodney decided plain chocolate was definitely as good as cherry coffee. When he saw Sheppard's glass was almost as empty as his own, he sent a questioning look across the table, and the two of them sucked loud and long. When they couldn't agree on who was loudest, they turned to Zelenka, who quickly declared a draw.

They had to suffer through another thirty-four hours of heat before a cool change arrived; the ice-cream sodas only lasted sixteen.

END


End file.
